Clipse - Hell Hath No Fury

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Hell Hath No Fury has an early 90's feel with hard, dissonant anti-melodies that won't come close to a club. Shit ain't sweet, and it's beautiful.

The Clipse have accomplished a
rare feat in Hip Hop, and not one that concerns sales or awards. The duo from
Virginia have everyone clamoring for their sophomore album. Less discriminate
fans, like those who are going down with Yung
, can't wait to hear about more ways in which Pusha T and Malice moved
white. That's no surprise though - it's that even the most elitist backpackers
who normally turn their noses up at such redundant subject matter are even
fiending for the LP.

How did they accomplish this nearly impossible cross sub-genre appeal? A
couple ways; the most obvious being they seem to get the best from fellow VA
natives The Neptunes. Pharrell and Chad lace the Clipse
with far grittier beats than they regularly supply, all the while keeping their
pop touch and signature sound (ie. "Grindin'"). Then there is Pusha T and Malice - two emcees who rarely stop rapping about slanging 'caine,
and when they do, it's to talk about guns or girls. Despite covering the most
used and abused of subject matters, they manage to keep it fresh and sounding
doper than the theme. Largely due to their subtle wit, the duo spit arguably
the best coke raps outside of Jay-Z.
Their seemingly unintentional charisma is just impossible not to like.

Despite all of this, label issues and a bad relationship with Jive have kept Hell Hath No Fury on the shelves for years now, but fuck all that -
here we are, finally. After one listen, all you can really say is, "at least it
was worth the wait." The apparent lead single, "Mr. Me Too," was just dirty as
hell, only to be outclassed by subsequent leaked tracks "Wamp Wamp" featuring Slim Thug and the stupid banger "Ain't
Cha" featuring The Re-Up Gang. Just
like they seemed to with their debut, The
have forgotten yet again that they are supposed to be the pop'est
of the hip-hop super producers and have just brought some foul shit for these
d-boys yet again.

But compared to the rest of the album, "Wamp Wamp" and "Ain't Cha" are all
sunshine and rainbows. More so than their debut, The 'Tunes have gotten experimental and gone a little left field with
their beats. Hell Hath No Fury has an
early 90's feel with hard, dissonant anti-melodies that won't come close to a
club. Shit ain't sweet, and it's beautiful. "Ride Around Shinin'" and "Trill" just
beat you down and the not-so-subtly titled "Keys Open Doors" is just straight
up gothic. And of course the Thorton
brothers are sticking to their game plan and do their fair share of detailing
the finer points of the cocaine trade with their superb lyricism. You just
can't fuck with songs like "Chinese New Year." Check the change in approach
this time around though - they're bringing you the game from all different
angles. Just check the differences between "Mama I'm So Sorry," the ridiculous Pharrell-featured "Hello New World" and

It's hard to complain about the years of waiting for Hell Hath after you've heard the results (and they even left some
incredible tracks on the cutting room floor). Just don't expect a nice, happy
album that your girl is gonna like. It's raw beats, raw rhymes and even rawer
subject matter. More importantly, it is amongst the finest albums that has hit
the shelves in 2006. Uggghk.


  • AllMusic

    It took Clipse over four years to get their second proper album on the shelves. As they were eager to discuss, the lag wasn't their fault. Well documented in print and on the Web, the oil spills and trap doors placed in front of the Thornton brothers were numerous. However, they weren't completely handcuffed. They released a pair of popular mixtapes that only intensified the anticipation for the official follow-up to Lord Willin'. (A talk with Bill Withers might give them an idea of how the music industry can truly paralyze an artist.) If any of the trip-ups played a role in the end result, they could be considered blessings in disguise. Hell Hath No Fury is a lean, furious, cold-blooded album that is vividly to-the-point. As with Lord Willin', all the production work is credited to The Neptunes, though Chad Hugo's name appears nowhere in the credits. A couple exceptions aside, these are some of the sparsest, most off-kilter Neptunes beats. They prod, hiss, dart, and thump -- ideal backdrops to Pusha T's and Malice's blunt-force, if occasionally knotty, rhymes. "Ride Around Shining" is baroque boom-bap, nothing more than a neck-snapping beat, Richard Pryor-sounding grunts, and cascading harp filigrees. "Trill" grinds and slides under a swarm of hungry cyborg mosquitoes. "Mr. Me Too" is nearly as minimal, a slinking bump. Lyrically, coke dealing dominates the subject matter more on this set than on the debut. Clipse survey their operation and reap its rewards, from easy-to-understand quips like "Pyrex stirrers turned into Cavalli furs" to the relatively mind-bending "If you're looking for a couple roosters in the duffle, keep the 'hood screaming 'Cock-a-doodle-doo,' motherf*ckers." Apart from specific elements of the "Mind Playing Tricks on Me"-quoting "Nightmares," as well as a couple other brief instances, the rhymes are guardedly self-congratulatory, like the MCs are wiping the gains in the haters' faces, albeit with the nagging sense that it could all blow up in an instant. The whole thing, including the club-oriented tracks, is magnetically grim.